


Objection sustained

by ILoveFANFic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bathroom Sex, Boys Kissing, Castiel Is Attracted To Dean, Castiel and Dean Winchester are Co-Workers, Court reporter Castiel, D/s undertones, Dean is attracted to Castiel, Dean’s fighting for a just cause, Dirty Talk, Dominant Dean, Hand Jobs, Joint hand job, Kissing, Lawyer Dean Winchester, M/M, Mentions of LGBTQ+-related background case, Or maybe just a hint of plot if you squint, POV Dean, POV Dean Winchester, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porny one shot, Resolved Sexual Tension, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, They're actually sorta co-workers, What's with me and writing sex scenes in public restrooms, mentions of rimming, oh look there's a tag for that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:33:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28554681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ILoveFANFic/pseuds/ILoveFANFic
Summary: Castiel Novak is a court reporter and Dean Winchester is a state attorney. They’ve met during trials for almost one year and never once spoken.Which doesn’t mean they haven’t eye-fucked, or that the sexual tension between them isn’t through the roof.They have, and it is.It is only a matter of time before one of them does something about it.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 16
Kudos: 127





	Objection sustained

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone and happy new year! I hope that, wherever you are, you are as safe and as happy as you can be and that your holidays have been peaceful. 
> 
> Before telling you anything else, I want to thank whoever nominated three of my fics for the The Destiel Fan Survey Favs Collection: you have no idea how happy that made me, especially as I'm struggling with my writing a lot right now. 
> 
> Indeed, this is the only piece of writing I've been able to produce ever since the finale aired, and it's a one-shot. I don’t even remember where the inspiration for this came from, if I have to be honest. I *think* I was reading yet another fic where Sam was a lawyer and something along the lines of ‘Sam was always destined for the courthouse’ was written and I thought ‘You know what? Dean would be just as good a lawyer as Sam. He’s a genius and has an incredible ability to understand who the person in front of him is’, and so here we are. At that point, the path to characterize Cas as a court reporter – someone who has to sit all the time and look professional while doing it, which might prove challenging to do on an aching ass – was a very short one 🤷🏻
> 
> I honestly have no idea when I'll be able to get back into writing consistently. My resolution for this year was to post at least once a month, but between the trauma of the finale and some very hard stuff happening irl, I'm not sure I'll manage to do that. I hope I will. More than anything, I hope writing will go back to being a safe place for me soon, rather than something that reminds me of the sadness I've felt since Nov. 19th. But anyway, this one had already been more than half-written before the finale, and since I managed to actually finish it, I thought I'd post it, in the hope that this will be only the first of many fics in 2021.
> 
> Hence, enjoy this porny one-shot: I can assure Dean and Cas already have 🤣
> 
> Comments, kudos and any kind of constructive feedback is always absolutely welcome ❤️😘 
> 
> Stay safe and stay awesome!

There it is. Novak’s bashful smile and dropping gaze after Dean’s smiled and winked at him. Dean would be telling a big, fat lie if he said that kind of attitude on Novak’s part doesn’t make him fantasize about the man looking at Dean like that when Dean’s about to fuck him so hard he won’t be able to sit straight at work the following day.

Dean groans internally at the thought, cursing himself for thinking about stuff like that when the session’s two minutes away from starting. Now he’s gonna have to interrogate the first witness while distracted by a semi.

How could he not? The mental images of the hot court reporter’s blue eyes looking up at Dean from beneath his eyelashes demurely as he’s sprawled on Dean’s bed about to be speared on his cock and of him squirming on his seat in court the following day, while he fights to stay focused and take notes even though he can barely sit because his ass is still aching from what Dean’s dick did to it the previous night, and while he flushes red – because Dean just _knows_ he would flush in embarrassment – every time Dean looks in his direction, aware that Dean’s realized what the source of his discomfort is-

Stop. Right. There. Winchester. For. Fuck’s. Sake.

You have a witness to grill in less than five minutes and the DA will have your ass roasted with a side of grilled potatoes for dinner if you fuck up this trial. Not to mention _you_ will never forgive yourself if, of all the trials in your carrier, _this_ is the one you fuck up.

Dean’s a state attorney, one of the best, and even though no one’s ever said the words aloud, he’s totally being groomed to be DA one day. That means he always gets his pick when it’s time to decide who gets assigned the cases the office has to work on and he always chooses those that can make a difference and allow him to challenge himself and refine his skills.

Thankfully, Novak’s one of the best at what he does too, he’s extremely precise and literal in his note taking, so he gets assigned to Dean’s cases more often than not, seeing as his are usually the most sensitive cases going on at the courthouse and no one wants the bad guys to walk free on a loophole like the proceedings not being transcribed correctly or in time.

Dean honestly appreciates working with committed people he knows he can count on. It doesn’t really hurt that Novak is eye candy too. Dark, thick and silky-looking hair, big, expressive baby blues, plump lips any sex worker in the world would kill to have, high, defined cheekbones, strong jaw, eternal five o’clock shadow and _that body_. Dean didn’t realize it at first, because Novak rarely parts from his ill-fitting tan trench coat that totally hides the treasure the court reporter packs underneath. But after the first time Dean saw him remove it, he’s started paying attention and has noticed that the man’s body is _to eat._ He’s tall, not as much as Dean but almost, broad shoulders and strong biceps, massively thick thighs Dean really can’t wait to bite and an ass Dean’ll be more than pleased to fuck open.

They’ve never talked. Not once. They’ve met at most of Dean’s trials for the better part of one year now, and none of them has approached the other, even though they both want to. Their eye-fucking certainly cannot be taken as a sign of lack of interest on either of their parts.

“All rise.”

The common phrase signaling the entrance of the judge pulls Dean out of his naughty train of thought and into the very important present circumstances. He has a just cause to fight for. And fight for it he shall.

That’s also when Novak’s eye-fucking of Dean begins.

Whenever Dean is interrogating witnesses he can _feel_ Novak’s eyes on him and it gets him even more motivated to show him how powerful and in control he can be. He cherishes the little, pleased smiles he always spots on the reporter’s face when he’s going back to his chair after a successful questioning. It makes him think about how Novak might want to reward him for a job well done, or how he might be getting hard – right there, in the courtroom, hidden by this small desk – thinking about Dean ruling over him in bed like he rules over witnesses at the stand.

That’s how he’s become aware of the tension between them, because of those unreal baby blues fixed on him as if they’re trying to grip Dean’s very soul. Especially as that shouldn’t even happen. Novak should always only focus on his notes, lest he forgets something or jots down the wrong piece of information. Yet, his eyes never stray when Dean’s conducting his interrogations and Novak’s notes are never inaccurate, Dean’s checked. That’s how Dean’s put two and two together and come up with Novak reciprocating his interest in doing deliciously filthy things together.

Logically, Dean knows none of them has acted on their sky-high sexual tension yet because that could potentially create a conflict of interest of giant proportions. He also knows, however, that one of them is bound to do something about it sooner or later, and that that’ll probably mean they’ll have to come clean with their superiors so they no longer get assigned to the same cases. Dean doesn’t specifically like that, since, again, no one is better than Novak at what he does. But he thinks he can make peace with it, if he gets to decide which of Novak’s holes to fuck when he goes back home at the end of each day.

Seeing as this is the last day of this trial, Dean’s actually considering to approach Novak at the end of the day, so they can ‘talk’ about their situation before getting assigned the next case, and decide what to do. Nothing can happen before he’s done interrogating his last witnesses anyway, this cause is too close to Dean’s heart for him to risk meddling with it in any way. Dean’s doing everything by the book, he’s making sure these guys get as much as it’s legal to sentence them to and that they’ll stay in jail until the very last day of their sentence.

Unfortunately, this doesn’t mean the day is going like Dean hoped it’d go. Being the last, today is all about having the most crucial testimonies at the stand, so they will be fresh in the minds of jurors when they retire for deliberation. Dean’s made headway with this case so far, but he needs one of these sons of a pig to incriminate themselves, and hopefully the others too, if he wants to be sure that the verdict be the one these assholes deserve.

These little fuckers are more difficult to crack than Dean expected though, he’s got to hand it to the defense for a job well done in preparing them.

It doesn’t help that the judge is Walker, who’s a fucking homophobe, and sounds like a broken record with his string of “objection sustained” – never, mind you, overruled – when Dean is questioning the members of the gang of high school seniors who have beaten a junior to a pulp because he’s gay. They will be sentenced for aggravated assault and battery for sure, the victim’s seated in the audience in full view of the jury and the signs of the attack are still pretty evident on his body, including the cast and bandages following the reconstructive surgery the kid had to go through to put the nerves in his right hand back in place. But if Dean wants these monsters to get the maximum sentence – and oh, does he want that – he needs to prove it wasn’t just an assault, but a hate crime following a long period of targeted harassment because the kid is queer. Dean believes in justice, he believes in having individuals like those who are taking the stand today face the consequences of their action, and he believes in the teaching power of exemplary sentences. Dean cannot, will not, allow the kids in that school to believe that you can brutally attack a rainbow kid because he isn’t straight and get away with a slap on your wrist. But that fucker of a homophobic judge is doing everything in his power not to let that happen, while at the same time pushing Dean closer and closer to getting himself sentenced for contempt of court.

The day is dragging on, emotions are running high, Walker calls more than one brief recess, Dean tries to keep his cool, eyes on the prize, even though his actual eyes can’t help look in the direction of Novak more times than they should. But the barely concealed fury and the disgust at the people Dean’s working to nail at the stand written all over Novak’s face are _helping_ , they’re fueling his desire to get a guilty verdict just as much as the scared and pleading eyes the victim is looking at Dean with.

The kid, Dean, Novak.

They are all part of the community. This is personal for all of them. The kid might be the one who got the actual beating, but every one of those bruises is a bruise on the soul of each queer person who’s ever been sidelined, bullied or attacked simply for being who they are.

Dean _needs_ a guilty verdict. For the kid, sure. For justice, sure. But for himself too. For Novak. For anyone in their community who needs to know that there are people fighting for their rights.

In the end, it’s the arrogance that goes hand in hand with being a bully that plays in Dean’s favor. What is clearly the leader of the little gang is the last to take the stand. Being the biggest bully of them all, he’s also the most insecure and arrogant. He’s the kind of person who feels better about himself not only when he can abuse others, but also – or _especially_ – when he can make it known that it was _him_ who did it. He needs to boast about it. And that’s what Dean leads him to do, in spite of his lawyer’s constant interruptions, and of Walker’s constantly sustaining his objections. He manages to make the fucking kid incriminate himself and shout about “filthy faggots like that” needing “to be set straight since they are clearly born defective”, so that Dean’s pretty confident about what the verdict will be when the jury stand up to retire. He honestly doesn’t think it will take them too long either, at this point.

When the door closes behind the last juror, Dean sits down to refocus and take a breath. People around him are milling about but he barely even notices. He’s trying to calm down even though he’d just like to grab a chair and high five the bully in the face with it. The _nerve_. The nerve he has to actually believe _he_ is better than anyone and has a right to police others and have an opinion on who they decide to love.

The complete silence is what brings Dean back to the present moment. The room is empty. So much for speaking with Novak.

He puts all his files back in his leather bag, wears his coat and makes for the exit.

He decides to make a detour to the restrooms last minute. Having checked the time, he knows he’ll be caught in the rush hour traffic and who knows how long he’ll be stuck in it. Better to relieve himself now, just in case. Some cold water on his face sounds like a great idea too.

When he steps into the room, he stops short. Novak is in there, seemingly alone, trench coat on, washing his hands at one of the sinks. He doesn’t look up at first, but when he does, he freezes much like Dean did a few moments ago.

They have never explicitly addressed what’s between them and this is the last place Dean would have chosen as the setting for that conversation. And to be honest, he’s not in the mood for a conversation either. He’s still full of adrenaline, reeling from the day’s events, and needs an outlet for all the frustration. He’s also totally tired of their tiptoeing around each other and never doing anything about it. The trial is over anyway, the verdict will be written down by the jury themselves, so Dean’s done waiting.

Eyes fixed on Novak, who’s looking back at Dean through the mirror in front of him, Dean opens the door to one of the stalls – thank goodness for how spacious and clean these bathroom stalls are, he thinks distractedly – and he jerks his head. He doesn’t say a word. The sexual tension between them is strong enough and their eye-fucking has been going on for long enough that Dean knows Novak knows what Dean’s asking.

Now it’s up to Novak to choose whether he wants theirs to remain an unrequited attraction or he wants to do something about it.

Novak chooses option number two.

Without saying a single word himself, Novak turns around, tilts his head to the side and narrows his eyes a bit, considering, dries his hands with a paper towel that he balls and throws away in the basket next to him, grabs his bag from where he’d placed it on the sink top and starts walking toward Dean.

Dean stays right where he is, left hand splayed on the door to keep it open, eyes tracing each of Novak’s movements. When the court reporter walks past him to enter the stall, Dean can see he’s both tense and determined, and can smell his cologne, and that only makes him hungrier for the man. Dean wants to know what cologne that is, because it does smell damn good, and then he wants Novak to stop using it, because he should only smell of sex and Dean, and of sex _with_ Dean.

By the time Dean has entered the space himself, closed and locked the door and turned around, Novak has placed his bag on the floor and has positioned himself in front of Dean, still silent, eyes still searching, barely there frown still in place.

Dean wets his lips because Novak looks good enough to eat and the man’s eyes follow the movement, his lips slightly parting on a tiny gasp as a result. Dean bends a little to the side to put his own bag on the floor and takes half a step to get closer to Novak.

“Dean-“

Dean groans and grips Novak tight to pull him against himself, wasting no time in thrusting his tongue into his mouth. _That_ is Novak’s voice? That low, gravelly timbre is how his voice sounds? Dean can’t wait to hear the man scream himself hoarse when Dean fucks him, the sound is gonna be divine.

Dan pushes Novak against the wall and plasters himself against him head to toe, pressing a leg between his knees. Novak starts grinding against that leg like a fucking rutting dog while Dean ravages his mouth, and Dean’s brain melts a little seeing the super professional Castiel Novak coming undone for him like that. Their crotches press against each other every now and then and Dean’s in love with the muffled moans trapped inside their connected mouths when that happens. Dean’s hands can’t keep still, they’ve found their way inside the trench coat as soon as Novak’s back connected with the wall but damn buttoned suit jacket, and there’s also a shirt, too many clothes, how many does this guy wear, until finally it’s just soft, smooth, warm, so very warm skin.

“Dean, what-“ Novak tries again.

“‘What’ _what_ , Novak?” Dean replies, annoyed at having been deprived of the mouth he should still be making out with right now. “What are we doing?” He challenges, rhetorically. “You know _what_ , Novak. We’re doing what we’ve been doing for months, only not with our eyes alone this time.”

“Oh, thank _God_ ,” is Novak’s only reply, before he grabs the lapels of Dean’s coat and pulls him back into his mouth.

Dean’s delirious. Novak tastes so good, kisses so good, smells so good, Dean never wants to stop having him like this, ready to give as good as he gets. Dean knows this is just gonna be a quick release after months of sexual tension that will only serve to tide them over until they’ll have a chance to explore each other properly in more comfortable circumstances. That doesn’t mean what they are doing now isn’t hot as fuck or that Dean’s not gonna enjoy every single second of it.

“God, Novak, you’re so hot, want you so much.”

“Me too, so much.”

“I know, I can _feel_ your eyes on me all the time.”

“I’m sorry, I-“

“Don’t be,” Dean orders, “I _want_ your eyes on me, on me only, and I want to be all over you, and you want that too, don’t you?”

“Yes, fuck, yes, please,” Novak confirms, big eyes earnest, red lips swollen from kissing, hands firm against Dean’s shoulders and back, groin never stopping his grinding against any part of Dean at its disposal. He’s _so good_. Dean wants to _eat him_.

“Fuck yeah, beautiful, you beg so prettily,” Dean says while also unbuckling Novak’s belt so he can unbutton his pants, pull down his zipper and finally, _finally_ , get his prize out. He can’t stop staring at it. Dean’s literally panting, mouth open, forehead pressed against Novak’s, whose hands are groping Dean’s ass so hard he’s positive they’re leaving handprints on his cheeks, while his own hands cradle Novak’s dick as if it was the source of life. He’s big, long, warm, thick, hard, red, uncut, fucking _perfect_.

Dean’s mesmerized.

“Are you...just gonna look at it or?” Novak asks, and he manages to sound impatient, insecure, embarrassed and eager all at once.

“Just,” Dean forces himself to say, licking his lips, “give me a minute. I’ve been thinking about this for so long, just let me enjoy the view.”

Novak fucking _chuckles_ , and Dean doesn’t have enough brain power to care.

“Take, ah, all the time you need,” Novak replies, sounding more relaxed, while also kissing and nipping Dean’s jaw, his chin, his lips. Dean reciprocates distractedly, still more interested in staring at the beautiful cock in his hands.

“That’s not fair though.”

“Mm?” Dean asks, intelligently.

“Where’s my view?” Novak asks, only to then bite his bottom lip.

Dean’s gonna eat this man, he swears to God.

Licking that lower lip as soon as Novak’s teeth free it, Dean tells him “You want your view? You know what to do to get it.”

“I can really?” Novak checks, wonder in his tone, even as his hands are already fumbling with Dean’s belt. Dean can relate. They’ve lusted after each other from afar for so long that it’s almost surreal to finally be _touching_ now.

When Dean’s cock is freed from its confines, Novak groans and starts stripping it slowly and unhurriedly, like Dean’s still doing with his own cock.

“Shit, Dean, fuck-“

“I know, baby, sssh, I know,” Dean soothes, “I want it so much too.”

Dean kisses him. Slowly, focusing on feeling his tongue slide against the other man’s, the press of their lips against each other, the ebbing and flowing of the waves of his warm breath on his face, and the satisfying warmth of the hardness in his hand.

When he finally finds the strength to separate his mouth from Novak’s, it’s just because he can’t wait any longer. “There’s not much we can do in here,” Dean says, before licking his palm and bringing his hand back around their lengths. They both moan when the gesture makes their erections press against each other. “But we’ll make do, won’t we, baby?”

Novak just nods, too far gone for words, and Dean can only push his tongue between those parted lips, hungry for anything he can take from this man. He then hides his face against Novak’s neck, inhaling his scent, getting drunk on it, and focusing on the pleasure radiating from his groin. He’s about to speak again when Novak’s hand closes on their cocks too, helping Dean’s hand complete a perfect channel for their dicks to fuck into.

“Shit-“

“My – _God_ – thoughts exactly.”

Novak’s a smartass, apparently. That only makes Dean want to fuck him even more.

“So good baby, can’t wait to have you somewhere more comfortable-”

“God, yes, me too-”

“Gonna give it to you however you want it,” Dean promises, knowing he’ll make good on his promise over and over again.

“Yes, please, _yes_ ,” Novak replies, louder than he’s been so far.

The stall they’re in is one of those separated by an actual wall and with a door that gets all the way to the floor. Thank goodness for historical buildings designed by architectures obsessed with Roman style and that appreciate not hearing other people’s noises while they take care of their physiological needs. Dean’s always loved the old and majestic courthouse and he counts himself blessed that _this_ is where he gets to work. He knows that not all courthouses around the country look like this, but he’s never loved this place like he does now. Now that he _finally_ has Novak under his hands and can make him beg for release without the whole courthouse knowing what it is they’re doing in here. Still, he uses the hand not currently around their erections to silence his increasingly vocal partner with his pointer finger against his puckered lips. Even lost in lust as they are, Cas’s eyes immediately zero on the action and stare, transfixed, at Dean’s mouth, their pupils dilating even more. Dean knows _exactly_ what people, especially men, think when they look at his mouth and he’s never had any reservations to play into the cocksucker lips stereotype to ensure his sexual gratification and his partner’s. And it’s not that Dean doesn’t want to keep hearing all the delicious noises Novak is making. He _very much_ does. Those little high-pitched whimpers, those half-suppressed groans, those deep moans straight from the back of his throat. But it’s better if they don’t attract attention, and Dean’s not sure he’ll be able to behave himself if he also has those sounds to listen to, in addition to that perfect dick to jack off and those soft lips to kiss. He’s also the kind of man who loves to be in control of his partner’s pleasure. He wants to silence Novak just because he _can_. He wants to see whether Novak will give him what he’s asking, even though it’s a difficult thing to ask of him right now. So when he does, when this big, strong, capable, smart, smoking hot man obeys Dean’s silent request even when his brain is soaking in an ocean of endorphins and he can barely think, Dean’s own pleasure spikes and his mind shoots a quick succession of incrementally filthy images showing just how creatively they could exploit Novak’s obedience. Dean’ll make sure to turn at least a good half of those images into reality soon.

Dean might have miscalculated though, because the silence is amplifying how hot the whole thing is rather than the opposite. The sounds of their clothes rustling and of their quickened breathing in contrast to the absence of sound coming from himself or Novak, who’s clearly struggling to be quiet but he’s managing anyway, make Dean get even harder and he knows it won’t be long before he shoots his load.

“Grab some toilet paper,” Dean orders on a whisper.

Novak takes a moment to even register Dean’s spoken, he’s so stupid with lust he’s confused and unresponsive, so that when he finally processes Dean’s words his ‘you want me to do anything but this right now and how can you even talk and think ahead’ expression is both adorable and extremely arousing. Dean feels so smug he can’t help but behave like a little dominant shit.

He slows down the rhythm of his hand and coos, “C'mon baby, if you're good and do what I asked I'll be sure to reward you appropriately later.”

Novak whines and shakes his head minutely.

“I know baby, but we can’t risk staining our suits, we need to be presentable to leave the building,” Dean continues, kissing along the other man’s neck. He sure tastes good, sweet Jesus.

Dean is jostled a bit by Novak’s little nod, and smiles thinking he’s trying to convince himself Dean’s right. He loves it when the man finally moves to do what Dean asked, but also hates the cold that the sudden absence of his hand around their cocks causes.

When he’s managed to grab the paper, Dean instructs “Keep it on our heads with your left hand and bring your right back where it was, you gotta help us come.”

“Jesus, fuck,” Novak swears and Dean loves to hear him so wrecked, knowing he’s in a very similar state.

When Novak’s hand closes around them again, Dean speeds up the movement of his own hand, Novak following suit, and kisses him again with renewed desperation. The pressure of Novak’s left hand on top of their heads is heightening every sensation for Dean and it doesn’t take long before they both come panting in each other’s mouth, Novak first and Dean soon after, as a result of the amazing feeling of the other man’s dick jerking violently to let his release out while pressed against Dean’s and of the almost pained sound Novak’s tried to suppress in vain.

When they’ve both ridden the aftershocks, Novak tilts his head back against the wall and closes his eyes while his breathing slows down. Dean apparently is the only one with enough brain cells left, so he makes sure to dispose of the soaked paper and then contents himself with planting his nose against Novak’s neck and waiting for his heart to stop beating so fast.

Once they’re calm again, Dean lifts his head and presses a series of closed mouthed kisses against Novak’s lips, until he can feel a smile spread on them. When he opens his eyes, he’s greeted by the man’s bashful smile and dropping gaze, and yes, seeing that smile and that gaze and knowing they’re a result of their fucking is just as satisfactory as Dean’s imagined it’d be.

After they’ve cleaned up as best as they can and tucked themselves back in, Dean says “Gimme your phone.”

When Novak’s only response is a confused head tilt, he elaborates, “It’s better if we’re not seen leave together, so I’m giving you my number and you can text me your address.” Novak’s confused expression clears away and it’s replaced by understanding. “Once you’ll get out of here,” Dean goes on, because he wants to make his intentions crystal clear and see what Novak thinks about it, “I’m gonna call my boss and tell her that you and I cannot be paired for our next case.” The pleased and hungry gaze that earns Dean suggests Novak’s clearly very much on board. “Then I’ll come over to the address you’ve texted me, so I can have you on your knees for me and fuck your mouth, before I get you all spread out on a bed like I have wanted from day one. I want to find out whether you can come by being tongue fucked alone.”

Novak’s gasp signals he definitely likes the plan, but still he looks doubtful. “That’s never happened before.”

“You’ve never had my tongue in your ass either.”


End file.
